passionate poison | tomura shigaraki x fem!reader ;; ❞

𝐎𝐅𝐅-𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐍 . 𝟏𝟔

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╰┈➤ ❝ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : ❞
None
❀° ┄──────╮

It wasn't time yet. In fact, you wouldn't be meeting Tomura in another week, per the agreement.

Instead, you were currently at Kamino, Tokyo's local indoor mall, browsing in hopes of a 'help wanted' sign. Spare change was limited, considering you had spent the remains of this week's budget on ingredients for a certain meal. All that was left, enough yen to purchase a ticket by train, home.

Needless to say, the array of stores and activities were packed. Crowded with astray teenagers of all ages, likely enjoying their weekend of downtime.

Jobs were scarce to come by, local or regular occupations, anyways. Most companies that aimed to hire were agencies, all of which, had turned you down upon noticing that lil' 'quirkless' label on the resume provided.

Usually, you prefer to keep that information on a low-profile. Others often changed their perspective of you upon hearing this defective trait, either straying far or pitying that of a helpless girl who, in their opinion, made the younger generations so 'heroic'.

Yeah, that's right — they had basically stated, Your existence as quirkless had the only purpose of making an 'up-and-coming' hero look admirable.

The thought was laughable at best and downright offensive, at worst. The very same people had ridiculed others for their gifts, as well. Those of more 'selfless' abilities would surpass a child and their dreams.

'What a joke!' — you stopped dreaming, not long after.

Up until now, the livelihood of your mundane life had been lonely.

Growing up, outside relatives had disowned and disbanded due to your casualties, renouncing you as they claim your quirkless factor wasn't necessary. A 'runt', as they'd call it.

Friends were limited, as well. Children were cruel and, unsurprisingly — when you hadn't been a late bloom and instead, quirkless, the harassment of fellow peers was relentless.

If you weren't belittled, you'd been left in the dust, referred to as a 'liability' than an associate. In turn, you had thrown yourself into tedious studies and desolate clubs. You had thought you'd met a companion or two (2), but alas, how wrong you were.

Even now, as citizens of all ages passed your frantic stature, none thought of you as anything less than a 'background character'. The search was futile. Hell, one lone employer had referred to you as 'eye-candy' rather than useful. At that point, you'd had cut your losses, exiting the mall, moreso disappointed now than prior.

A variety of quirks could be labeled as 'villainous', depending on their capabilities. Children were taught, the better the quirk, the higher the rank when they'd voyage out to surpass their own Heroic idols. These children, with malicious-seeming quirks and experience of rejection, tending to be far more patient with your lack of gift.

Hot-headed — but patient, nonetheless.

In no way, shape or form had you forgiven Tomura. Resentment still strong-armed it's sharp thorns to gush within your abdomen, reminding you of the torment he had first shown.

Although, Tomura did have something in common with you. That, you were sure.

Waltzing the pavement sidewalks of Kamino, Tokyo, you lugged around a plastic bag, full to the brim with ingredients like no other.